Rain is good—until it's too much

The biggest threat to our plants in the winter is usually the cold. This winter, the lowest nighttime temperature we've had was 30°F, as well as multiple nights right at 32°F. It's ironic, then, that something else has turned out to be the biggest problem—something we were begging Mother Nature for just a few years ago: rain.

In a region where the specter of drought is always a lurking presence, rain is a good thing. Until it isn't. In just the last few days, we've had flooding up and down California (Valentine's Day was the wettest day in Palm Springs in 76 years!), landslides, sinkholes, not to mention toppled trees and more minor incidents.

Nothing so dramatic happened in our little corner of the world. But considering we've had 12.5" of rain since December 1 (vs. 3.7" the year before),  I've become increasingly worried about rot from the excessive rainfall, especially after the 'Desert Love' incident. On Wednesday, I decided to grab what plastic sheeting I could find in the garage and drape it over some of the more vulnerable xeric plants in the front yard. I know it was more to make myself feel better than to effect any real rain protection for the plants, but sometimes that's all we can do.

Finding Nemo the rare Mount Diablo manzanita

I seem to have a thing for plants that start with A: Aloe, Agave, Acacia, and now Arctostaphylos aka manzanitas. With smooth or peeling bark ranging in color from cinnamon to chocolate, contorted branches, stiff leaves in hues from apple green to silver, and masses of small bell-shaped flowers in late winter frequently followed by tiny fruit resembling little apples (hence the Spanish name), their presence cannot be denied.

While some manzanita species are present in other western states as well—the prostrate kinnikinnick or bearberry (Arctostaphylos uva-ursi) is even found in the polar regions of North America, Asia and Europe—the biggest concentration is in the California Floristic Province (CFP) which stretches from southwestern Oregon into northern Baja California. According to the Field Guide to Manzanitas, 104 of 105 currently recognized Arctostaphylos taxa (species and subspecies) are native to the CFP. (The 105th, oddly enough, grows only at the top of several volcanic craters in Guatemala, thousands of miles from its closest manzanita neighbor.)

The county where I live, Yolo, is home to only one species (the common manzanita, Arctostaphylos manzanita subsp. manzanita), but some of the biggest manzanita hotspots are an easy drive away: Sonoma County (17 species and subspecies), the greater Bay Area (27), and Santa Cruz and Monterey Counties (27). It's one thing seeing plants you like in a residential or public garden, but it pales compared to the real deal: seeing them grow in their natural habitat.

Even though I've done some reading and have seen different manzanita species in botanical gardens, my practical skills at identifying them are virtually non-existent. Some species are very distinct, but many others (especially subspecies) are difficult to tell apart. The best clue is location: the native habitat of a manzanita is probably the best criterion in order to narrow down the possibilities.

Softly undulating hills dotted with oak trees are a typical landscape feature in our part of California

With that in mind, I decided my first manzanita outing of the year should be to a spot that only has two species: Black Diamond Mines Regional Preserve near the city of Antioch in the East Bay.

Desert Love in trouble

Philosophical question of the day: Is déjà vu a good thing? 

Yahoo has the answer: "For your own safety," one user writes, "'deja vu' should be understood for the same reason a venomous snake should be understood, or more mysteriously, an unidentified creature." 

 What now?

"Sometime it happens right before a seizure," somebody else says, "but that is very rare. So don't think you are going to have a seizure."

Whew, good to know!

"It is neither, or both, depending on your reaction," states a very smart person. "It is an experience that can awaken an awareness of what is going on in your life, and you need to just pay attention! There are things to be learned."

Time for a learning moment—maybe.

Agave ovatifolia 'Frosty Blue' in February 2018

Almost a year ago I lost an Agave ovatifolia 'Frosty Blue' and an Agave 'Snow Glow' to rot. I was never able to figure out definitively what happened. I removed the rotting carcasses and drenched the area with two kinds of fungicide. Then I planted an Aloe africana and an Agave 'Desert Love', a Plant Delights hybrid involving Agave ovatifolia, Agave parrasana and possibly Agave asperrima.

Let the light in: much-needed bamboo thinning taming

The three clumping bamboos in the front yard (all of them Bambusa species) are happy and healthy even on a much less generous watering regime than in the old days before the drought. That, in turn, makes me happy because I love the lushness they contribute to our garden.

For most of the year, I just let the 'boos do their thing. In the winter, however, when the sun is low in the sky, it becomes obvious how much the Asian lemon bamboo (Bambusa eutuldoides 'Viridi-vittata') shades the smaller succulent mound. Take a look at the photo below to see what I mean.

The Asian lemon bamboo is a fairly dense clump of culms and leaves:

It looks great, but it creates more shade than the other plants need or want.

New Hans Hansen ×Mangave releases for 2019

I was very excited to find two boxes at the front door last week, especially since I didn't know they were coming:

My mystery mangave benefactor was wondering if I'd like to trial the latest creations from Walters Gardens in Zeeland, Michigan where mangave wizard and plant genius at large Hans Hansen practices his hybridization magic. Except for one plant in the box, ×Mangave 'Mission to Mars', they were all new to me.

Opening boxes is a truly exciting thing. Maybe I should up my game and start producing unboxing videos like so many people on YouTube, but for now this is the best I can do:

Box 1

Photo of the Day: shoutout to the humble jade plant

Photo of the Day for Friday, February 1, 2019:

Jade plant (Crassula ovata)

The jade plant (Crassula ovata) is so common here that it gets very little respect. It's even worse in the Bay Area where it grows so effortlessly that some consider it a weed.

I must admit that I'm not always good to our jade plant either. It's not an automatic drip, so in the summer it gets water whenever I think of it—which maybe as infrequently as once every six weeks.

And yet, it takes no offense and it holds no grudges. Instead, it flowers for weeks on end, bringing a smile to my face whenever I walk by.

Humble jade plant, I see you, and I will be more kind to you.

Photo of the Day: Acacia baileyana starting to bloom

Photo of the Day for Thursday, January 31, 2019 (yikes, the last day of January already!!!):

Acacia baileyana 'Purpurea'

Late winter is acacia time around here. Our Cootamundra wattle (Acacia baileyana 'Purpurea') is now 20 ft. tall and covered with blossoms. This is one of the first branches with open flowers. I love the contrast between the bluish-silver leaves and the golden-yellow puffball flowers.

This is the first time this acacia has flowered.

Agave hunter Ron Parker's personal collection

I recently reviewed Chasing Centuries: The Search for Ancient Agave Cultivars Across the Desert Southwest, Ron Parker's groundbreaking book about agave species cultivated and refined by the pre-Columbian cultures of Arizona. It's a book unlike any other, and I highly recommend it if you have even a passing interesting in the prehistoric peoples of Arizona and, of course, agaves.

On my after-Christmas Arizona trip, I had the opportunity to visit Ron on his home turf in Fountain Hills, northeast of Phoenix. To say that where he lives is pretty is like saying the Grand Canyon is alright. This is the view west from his street:

And this is his front yard:

Photo of the Day: do as I say, not as I do

Photo of the Day for Monday, January 28, 2019

Seen yesterday on the University of California Davis campus:

This is the Environmental Horticulture building. You'd think that they'd use this planting bed as showcase for their department! Unless the weeds aren't weeds at all but a new kind of plant breeding breakthrough?

Debris-collecting Agave macroacantha had to go

Once upon a time, in March 2014 to be precise, I planted a beautiful Agave macroacantha outside the front yard fence, next to the 'Black Lace' elderberry and one of three Aloe 'Moonglow'.

When I say beautiful, this is what I mean:

Agave macroacantha with backlit marginal teeth and terminal spines

It looked like this right after planting:

Agave macroacantha perfection right after planting in March 2014; look how small the Aloe 'Moonglow' was (on the left)